


Shaping a Future

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Rare Pair Fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes you find someone.  Sometimes they find you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shaping a Future

_It had taken Diana a long time to decide what to do with the clay._

Her stop at the small shop had been unplanned. The dilapidated building had appeared almost like a mirage, weathered wood shimmering in the desert sun. She had stopped partly out of curiosity, but mostly to take a break from the monotony of driving.

For the most part, it had been the usual souvenirs. Turquoise and silver jewelry, terracotta pots, dream catchers. The large block of clay had been wrapped in plastic and sitting alone in a corner. He had noticed her looking at it.

“It's magical,” the old, wizened Indian had told her, rising slowly from the stool where he had been resting.

Diana had nearly laughed at that, imagining what her friends would say if she dragged a block of magic clay home from Arizona. When she'd first told them of her plans to drive cross-country looking for inspiration, they'd questioned her sanity. “I'm not even sure what I'd do with it.”

“It will speak to you,” he told her. “It will tell you what it wants to become.”

She still wasn't sure how he had talked her into it, what he'd charged her, or how the two of them had managed to wrangle her purchase into the back of her SUV. All she knew was that she'd returned from her vacation broke and with a block of clay that two of her male friends had grudgingly hauled up the stairs to her loft studio.

Two weeks later, almost unconsciously, she found herself creating an armature. Slim, trim, female. Diana had never sculpted a human figure before, but now she had plenty of clay, and nothing in particular to do with it. It seemed like a good time.

As the form slowly took human shape, Diana settled on a name. Athena, after the Greek goddess of wisdom. Athena would be standing, posed with her arms slightly extended before her, as if reaching out to touch. Diana debated clothing. Perhaps a period costume? A simple drape? No, she decided, feeling a blush rise to color her cheeks. Athena would be naked.

With the wire and mesh form finished, the following morning, Diana started applying the clay. It was oddly warm, almost soft between her fingers. She smiled to herself. If nothing else, it was a very fine clay, a pleasure to work with. Perhaps that was what the old Indian had meant when he called it magical. She built up Athena's basic form first, layering clay on the armature before going back to begin refining the figure. Flat stomach, small but ample breasts, a long neck leading to a strong jaw worthy of a goddess. Diana began forming the features of the face, a long straight nose between high cheekbones and deeply set eyes.

It was only the growling of her stomach that caused Diana to glance toward the clock, and she was startled to see the time. It was nearly nine o'clock, and she'd been working on the statue since early morning, almost without a break. No wonder her stomach was demanding food. With some reluctance she put down her tools and washed her hands, hating to walk away when things were going so well.

Diana seldom had erotic dreams, but she dreamt that night of soft hands on her, slowly stroking her skin, fingertips caressing her breasts and brushing against her nipples. A strong yet supple thigh sliding between her legs. Lips that met hers, even though she couldn't make out the features behind them.

She still felt pleasantly flushed as she climbed the stairs to her studio the next morning, cup of Starbucks in her hand. Unlocking the door and pushing it open, the scene that met her nearly caused her to drop her coffee.

“What the hell?” she asked, as she advanced into the open loft, letting the door close behind her.

The statue of Athena that she had left standing, nearly finished, when she had left the night before was now laying on the old sofa that she kept at the loft for the occasional nap. _No, she corrected herself, the statue wasn't laying—as if it might have fallen—it was reclining._ Sleeping, perhaps. A position totally unlike the one she had posed.

“Alright. Very funny. You can come out now. James? Eric?” Diana's first thought was that her friends had snuck in during the night to play a trick on her. It wouldn't be out of character.

A moment later, she discarded that theory. While they could have moved the statue, there was no way they could have repositioned it without doing substantial damage. Diana set her cup down and moved closer. There was no apparent damage. Indeed, details had appeared. Long fingers sported distinct fingernails. The eyes were closed, the lips just slightly parted. Hair that had essentially been an unfinished mass now flowed over Athena's shoulder, individual strands so sharply defined it was hard to believe they were made of clay.

 _Magic clay_ , whispered a small voice in the back of her mind. _No, she didn't believe that._ There had to be some rational explanation. For the moment, however, she had no idea just what that might be.

Curiosity warred with apprehension until curiosity won out. Diana approached the sofa, reaching out to run her hand along the sole of the foot that hung off its end. Skin. Clay. Diana wasn't quite certain.

“Hey, that tickles!”

Diana jumped backwards at the unexpected voice, stumbling and landing on her butt.

Her fall was met by an amused snort of laughter, one quickly muffled. “Are you all right?”

“Everything but my dignity.” Diana started to rise, only to find an extended hand waiting to pull her to her feet. A hand that somehow felt human. She let Athena help her up. “Who are...what...how?” Diana asked, not even sure of the proper question.

“Magic, of a sort,” Athena answered, returning to sit on the sofa, her hand still holding Diana's and guiding her to sit down as well. “I am the spirit that lives within the clay. I sensed your need, and I called to you.”

“ _It will speak to you_.” Diana remembered the words. “ _It will tell you what it wants to become._ ”

Athena's lips quirked into a smile. “It's more complicated than that. The 'magic' is powered by the desires and needs of the sculptor. In many ways, I am your creation.”

Diana was suddenly aware of the hand on her thigh, caressing the skin in slow circles. A touch that seemed very familiar. “How--” No, that question could wait. “You say that you're my creation?”

“I am what you want, in your heart of hearts.”

That brought with it all sorts of ethical issues, ones that Diana couldn't quite ignore. As nice as the hand stroking her thigh felt, she wasn't sure she could allow it. She covered Athena's hand with her own, stilling it. “Then you're here solely because it's what I want? You have no choice in the matter?”

Athena's laugh was almost musical. “I wouldn't choose to be anywhere else.” She glanced down, light dancing in her eyes. “Although I do wish you had envisioned me with just a bit of clothing.”

Diana joined in the laughter. “Oh. I can probably find you something--”

Athena pulled Diana into her lap. “Ah, maybe later,” she said, the words fading away as their lips met.


End file.
